Friday, August 31, 2007
She showed up with her coffeemaker and yes, it is defective. We ran side-by-side tests and mine made lovely java within mere minutes, while her machine sat there and steamed. Literally. Clouds of steam, nothing much else.
How to describe this lady? Thrown out of the family home at 16, scrapper who endured life on the streets, analytical genius bordering on OCD, single mother, now owns her own duplex and has been running her business for several years.
Tough cookie, survivor, conjurer when it comes to dealing with government authority.
I am so grateful to have her on my side!
Apparently, she's about as proficient with a telephone as I am.
I've called her twice since yesterday to try to find out what time she plans to show up, but she doesn't answer.
I wouldn't normally care, but she's the one who picked Friday morning. We have to go over my business and I need to show her how to use her coffee machine (same make and model as mine). She liked my coffee so much she bought the same machine, but had so much trouble using it that she said she came *this* close to tossing it in the garbage.
It's just a plain old one-cup Melitta espresso maker ($34.95 at HellMart).
Meanwhile, my accounting has been called "the file from hell."
The government apparently believes I have not filed an income tax return since 1986.
They also believe I owe them more money than I make in any given year.
Good luck collecting, boys.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I was (am) distraught by the news that Owen Wilson may or may not have attempted to commit suicide last Sunday, and that he may or may not be struggling with a heroin addiction.
Surely not OWEN!
What is the world coming to?
The following incredibly vapid stream of video doesn't help, but it does give me more looks at one of the men of my dreams.
(link does not appear to want to behave properly)
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Busy with a rather large document… interesting project, but I’m not allowed to talk about it.
Doesn’t that sound perfectly Pink Panther of me? ("I can't tell you, otherwise I'd have to kill you, etc.")
It is true, however, that in the translation biz, you do occasionally get information you’re not allowed to disclose.
In other news here and there at the motel, some absurdities.
The first event bothers me for its sheer pettiness. It has to do with two men, one of whom seems to think he has a monopoly on my time. So he peeled out of here a couple of nights ago in a snooty fit.
Mind you, the second event is not much better. It has to do with cats and horseshoes.
Nah. On second thought, I won’t even bother writing it down.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
My son said, "Okay, you've had your drama queen hissy fit for today, now be quiet."
That made me laugh and it worked, too.
I am watching The Grudge 2, which fits in with my recent horror movie preoccupations.
I just think it's cheap how the Murrican filmmakers stole so many scenes from the original Japanese movie.
Monday, August 20, 2007
I've met about a million people through The New Guy (whose nickname, thanks to Kat, is Buddha.)
More later. Maybe.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Part of my money woes are due to only billing clients once a month. No more!
I've been staggering the invoicing now so that I don't land in this hole again.
My new accountant is working on my overdue paperwork at last. That in itself is a relief.
I do have lots of utilities to pay, though. I should call them and show some sign of good faith, but the overbilled Hell Canada home phone account just depresses me so much, I can't face it.
I might just gather up all the envelopes (some opened, some not) and bring them to a friend's house and at least have some moral support in sorting and compiling them.
I also need to call someone whose birthday I ignored because I did not want to have contact with humanity. I feel badly about that. I feel stupid having to explain that I was, selfishly, having a crappy day.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I know, getting cranky with yourself is just wrong.
When I get cranky, I clean things.
I did the leftover dishes (which the Teen had promised to finish last night) and wiped the counters and bread crumbs from under the toaster and all that stuff.
Grumbling all the while. "God, I'm sick of doing the same tasks over and over every day! Stupid counters! Stupid ants in the cat food! (yes they're still there, and even worse than they were) Stupid dust in corners!"
I cleaned out the cat boxes and put out the stupid garbage -- same things I did yesterday.
Now I don't know what else to do to occupy my day!
PS: To add insult to injury, I've been waiting for a cheque from two clients - one of which I should have received by today at the latest... but was told it was only mailed yesterday. So, no money to pay bills until sometime next week. Great. JUST GREAT. Whatever bit of decent mood I had today just flew out the window.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
I doubt he likes Prince. He might tolerate Prince but would never love Prince. And frankly? Any guy who loves Prince like I love Prince? Would have to be gay.
So I met this dude... he's kinda sweet. And he would have to put up with Prince and Criss Angel (new hair notwithstanding.) and my love of Steve Buscemi and/or John Malkovitch.
But he has a really, really big gut.
I'm not sure how to deal with mental attraction and a really REALLY big gut.
Tom Waits says it nicely*:
There's a place for us
Somewhere, a place for us
Peace and quiet
There's a time for us
Some day, a time for us
Time to spare
Time to learn
Time to care
Someday, somewhere, we'll find a new
way of living
We'll find a way of forgiving
*from West Side Story. Which I've never seen.
(also? Tom does it on purpose, I'm sure: He sings "a plathe for uth"
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Two nights ago I headed out the door with a bag of 20 empty ginger ale cans (I usually give them to Old Wheezing Guy upstairs, but decided I could use 10 extra cents) and lo and behold! A police car in front of a neighbour's door! And a small group of people in earnest discussion, including landman and his wife.
The usual clutch of gossipers was sitting on the swing (you know, the kind of 4 person wood swing you generally see on the lawn at old folks' residences? We have one) and one of folks asked me where I was going.
This is what it's all about, around here... everyone has to know your slightest business. *sigh*
So I announced that I was going to the corner store for more ginger ale! I'm sure this was welcome news to all concerned. I jerked my head toward the police car behind us and whispered, "What's happening over there?"
Turns out one of the two dudes who lives in #19 flipped his lid. Turns out that both guys are schizophrenic and off their meds.
Not one, but too schizos! I can't spell that word, can I?
This is the second time the police have been called in for a disturbance at that apartment. It appears there was lots of noise during the night.
One of the guys in question I have had the dubious pleasure of meeting -- that time in the laundromat, when he got pissed at me for removing his clothes from the washing machine because his load was done.
I hope they get asked to move the hell out.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Yeah it's nice and all, but it creeps me out. Because spiders love cedar. All of the cedars (including two large ones close to either side of my front entrance) are like apartment buildings, absolutely laced with filmy spider terraces/balconies, even spider penthouses with multiple decks higher up -- all equipped with those tunnels the homeowners scuttle from when a visitor drops in for dinner.
I HATE SPIDER TUNNELS.
So landman is blithely trimming away, most likely freaking out the spiders, which will probably pack their bags and leave home, e.g. decide that the area between my inside and outside windows is a safer place to live.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
He shows up twice a day (minimum), usually morning and evening, for his meals. Said meals are generally dry food mixed with wet, and a daily teaspoon of calcium pellets. Sometimes, if I have no canned cat food on hand (because by now he turns up his nose at plain dry food) I will mash up a hot dog, or shredded leftover meat, maybe chicken broth or leftover gravy, and animal fat.
Problem is, he wants to come inside all the time. Problem with THAT is, he backs up to various objects (e.g. my bed, dresser) and does the marking of territory thing. I haven't actually seen him spray, I think he's too young for it, but of course it will stink eventually.
Plus, he lies or sits on the porch or walkway and meows for me.
KILL ME NOW.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
This upcoming movie is sure to flop first night... straight to PPV or video...
I won't even mention the name or leading characters.
Mmm okay then, here's a hint:
Paris, 26, will play Heather Sweet, the daughter of the movie's villain, Geneco owner Rottismo Largo.
Could you get any stupider, Hollywood peeps? Really?
Yes, I went to the hotel pool today. But I went alone, and felt like Missus Fucking Robinson, I swear.
I sat alone, pretty happy for the most part until a yung guy motioned for me over to the hot sand for a game of volleyball. He was of the dark-haired variety to which I am partial.
I was actually waiting for a different male buddy to show up. He didn't. I am tempted to give him hell for not daring to don a bathing suit... not sure. (I think I will)
See that photo? I am not in there.